Stolen Hearts
by Sakaiya
Summary: A collection of Kleptoshipping oneshots.  Marked complete cuz each oneshot is complete. There will be a notice when i write my last oneshot. My friend Pawzdandy asked me to write some Kleptoshipping and this is what resulted. Have fun reading!
1. Stolen Hearts 1

**Title**: Truthful Lies  
><strong>Author:<strong>Kuroikitsu

**Verse**: Stolen Hearts  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Yugi, Bakura  
><strong>Challenge:<strong> 7 Lies

**Prompt**: I Love You  
><strong>Word<strong>**Count**: 3220  
><strong>Rating<strong>: Rated M for undescriptive lemon.  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers**: yaoi, not a very happy story. no death but not really that pleasant

**Author's Note: **Reason for the verse thing? My friend and I rp alot and put the ygo cast in different universes. This is one that I decided to call stolen hearts. This particular one follows the ygo plot until right after Battle City. After that, things changed. It's only a oneshot, but considering that this fic is designed to be a bunch of oneshots, I think it'll get updated soon ^_^ I love you guys who read this! Anyone who story alerts or faves gets hugs. Anyone who reviews gets hugs AND cookies!

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><p>Bakura's determination was a terrible thing to underestimate. I knew this; as did Yami, Jounouchi, and everyone else. It was a painful lesson, learned through betting souls in the Shadow Realm. To tell the truth, it was only pure luck that we weren't hurt. Despite this, we underestimated the Egyptian albino yet again. In fact, the only one who hadn't was Marik. The two darks hated each other, but they were logical enough to realize that fighting each other got nothing done.<p>

It's been four years since they teamed up and came back form the shadows Yami banished them to. Bakura got what he wanted in the end. He found a way to separate the lights from their darks. He didn't bother to give my dark a body like he did for himself and Marik. Instead, he cursed him. Without a physical link to our realm, I had to watch his spirit slowly disintegrate into nothing. Every day he faded more and more and, at times, he couldn't hide the painful grimaces as if staying here wore on him.

…When I earned permission to talk, I asked Bakura why he did that to Yami instead of just killing him like he wanted to. Bakura merely smirked and told me that it was "insurance". He never said anymore about it and I had known well enough not to ask anymore questions until I had "earned" my answers through good behavior. Though, if I had to guess, I would think it was to make sure my Yami never reached the afterlife he deserved. Resting in peace and fading from existence entirely are two different things after all.

Bakura only wanted the millennium items to extract his revenge on Yami. Once the ex-pharaoh was out of the way, he had no use for them just as he had told Malik years ago. With Marik keeping the rest of the gang busy, Bakura had been able to take my Yami away from me. The rest was simple. Bakura tossed the Ring and the Puzzle to Marik and told him that the rest was his problem.

Marik was content with these terms. He had only wanted Bakura's help to get him out of the shadow realm. I'll never know exactly how they struck the deal between them. The last time I had seen either of them, both Marik and Bakura were determined to take down Yami themselves. Infact, they probably helped save Yami because they would fight each other trying to fight Yami.

At first, Bakura seemed content watching on the sidelines. Yami was– had been the hero. Everyone fought him because out of all of us, he could survive in the shadow realm the best (he had been imprisioned there for 5000 years), he was the strongest, and it was expected. Proper. No one really paid attention to the rest of us. At first, before he began to fade- it was nice to be the focus for once. Instead of being pushed to the back of our mind, giving suggestions that I could only hope he heard, I was the one with choices. Before I noticed his pain, I didn't mind it at all. I could still hear him whisper advice in my ear and most of the time I took it. It was my _choice_ to. But the first time I noticed I couldn't see him as clearly as I had the day before… the first time I noticed the pained wince, I would have given anything to have him back in control of our body again. I could stand being background if I didn't lose him.

I… I lost him anyway.

The struggle of just sticking with me during normal everyday life was already causing him to fade from existence but he had no where to go. Being dragged to the shadow realm in multiple duels only hurt him more. The realm seemed to both make him stronger and weaken him. Part of his spirit recognized it, like he belonged there. I could see him a tiny bit clearer when we were there. But leaving… it wore on him even more than just everyday life.

Some of us handled the realm better than others. Jou handled it the best. He still does. The last time I was able to contact him he could handle three shadow games without passing out and could almost summon the realm himself. Mentally Jou always was the strongest of us. I'm not surprised. Mai is second best. She can do more duels than Jou, three only wear her out- or so I was told, but she can't even attempt to summon the shadows. Tristan can only survive one duel and Serenity can't seem to get back and forth without passing out. I can sympathize with her. I still get dizzy just going back and forth. There is no way I can last an entire duel.

When we were fighting Marik, as he slowly tried to gain control of the planet, we were almost able to defeat him a few times. Mostly through Malik. For as violent as Marik was towards him, Marik never truly risked hurting Malik. Not in the soul where the pain was irreparable. It was always Bakura who interfered.

Sometimes, watching Bakura and Marik, one could almost think of them as comrades. They shared similar enough attitudes and seemed unwilling to let anything hinder the other, even if it does nothing to further their own goals. I will never know for certain how they feel towards one another. Bakura has stated that he hates Marik more than he ever has before. That he has become weak and Bakura merely babysits him because he hated to see hard work wasted. After that, I was forbidden to speak of it again. Not in words. Very few of Bakura's demands come in words, almost as if it is a mark of pride to force me to both read his mind _and_ follow his every demand.

Of course, Marik had to pay the price for Bakura's occasional help. Bakura was actually a relatively easy man to please, if one had what he desired. When Marik took over, he did. He granted Bakura a small kingdom, if one could call the United States small. It wasn't what he actually wanted though. Atleast, not all that he wanted. Bakura would have preferred the freedom of roaming freely in Marik's world, but Marik couldn't allow that.

After arranging an entire planet into the order he wanted, he wouldn't risk Bakura ruining it. If Bakura had his own responsibilites, he wouldn't have the time to randomly ruin things in Marik's kingdom.

Marik was rather obsessed with his control. Despite ruling an entire planet, he did a rather good job of enforcing his rules. Although, I feel like he became the planetary ruler more for the control it gives him than the desire to change much. Marik taking over was a bit like having a new government. Other than getting rid of money, Marik isn't much different than other governments to most people.

At some point, Bakura grew tired of playing Marik's game. He demanded his prize. Marik knew what he wanted.

I still clearly remember the smirk that crossed Marik's face when Bakura had said that. It was creepier than some of the expressions he had when he lost control of the Shadow Magic that used to help him maintain control over Malik's body. Malik himself visibly shuddered, throwing his gaze down at the floor in front of him.

Instead of the floor, I looked at Malik. I had been forbidden from looking down. There was a time when I defied Marik's rules but I had grown tired of the nightmares. If it is a minor infraction, he only forces me to rewatch my Yami fade from me at night. The worse I disobey the more painful the separation is.

In the last dream, Yami had called out to me. Clearly called my name, begging for my help. My dark had never been one to beg. And all I had done was stood there and watched. His leaving (I couldn't bear to call it that other word) was all _my_ fault. …I haven't disobeyed a command since then.

"What are you willing to give me for him?" Marik demanded calmly. I could hear the laughter in his tone, mocking condescension. Despite his question, this was not going to be a negotiation. If Bakura truly wanted whatever Marik believed he wanted, he was going to have to get Marik whatever he desired.

"Damn you Marik." Bakura growled.

Marik continued, as if he had never waited for Bakura's response. "I do still need a general. Someone who has the time to waste, destroying that petty resistance."

I felt my heart leap into my throat. _Jou_. When he ran, he talked about arranging a resistance. Malik and I tried to shush him, as Marik had ears everywhere, when he asked us if we would come with him. To this day, I do not know why Jou and I were allowed rooms in the castle Marik built rather than in the serving quarters. Malik I understood. Despite the darkness that ruled him, Marik cared for his light and would sometimes ruin his orderly control to arrange a system that Malik seemed to prefer. I never understood why I or Jou was there.

Jou ran. He couldn't stand sitting in those glided rooms all day while everyone else suffered. We had our own pain and suffering, but we were far from the worst off. Jounouchi never could stand to watch another suffer.

At the time, that was the first I had heard of Jou since he left. Thinking back on it now, it is almost as if Marik _wanted_ him to escape. Complete rule is not fun with no one to challenge it. At the time though, I was so happy that Jounouchi had managed to escape. So happy, that I forgot the actual topic of conversation.

"Tch." Bakura snorted. "Fine. I'll have them destroyed before the end of the week."

"No, please-" My mouth opened before I had the chance to think of what I was doing. Then again, after loosing my loving dark, I had just found out that the best friend whom I thought I would have to mourn was alive. I wasn't thinking clearly- if at all. Still, once I couldn't find it in myself to retract my plea now that it had left my lips.

Marik however, did not punish me at all. He merely sat up, no longer lounging, but still comfortable. He grabbed the end of my chain. It was almost effortless, the way he tossed my chain in Bakura's direction, hard enough that I fell, following the metal. Malik had a leash as well, as we were both Marik's pets. Only mine was metal though. Perhaps Marik thought he needed a tighter grip on me or maybe it was reminiscent of when I carried the puzzle on a chain. He never told me. "Punish him however you like. He's yours." Marik told him benignly, as if he had done both Bakura and myself a great service. Still, there was something that still seemed off, as if he knew that was false as much as we did.

Bakura did not bother reaching for my leash. Instead he turned and left. It wasn't until a few moments later when Marik began laughing, that loud harsh sound that I had heard far too often, that I realized that I should have followed Bakura. I was lucky- he hadn't gone too far. He probably realized that I only knew Marik's rules. Having a new "owner" meant that everything would have to be a new learning experience.

Bakura didn't care if I called him master or not. Marik had. It was something I used to get punished for often in the beginning, and later on because I would think aloud and I refused to call him master in my thoughts. It seemed like giving up too much of myself and my freedom to do so.

Bakura wanted me because I looked like my Yami. I can not honestly blame him. I spent hours looking in the mirror, waiting for Yami to come back and take over. Every day my body looks a little bit more like his did. Bakura had me do enough random chores that my muscles are building up. And I started to grow a little taller. It wasn't much, maybe a centimeter a year or so, but it was enough to make me no longer look like such a _child_.

At first, I was Yami's replacement. It was my job to suffer under Bakura's hands in the way Yami's spirit could not. Fading away had left him untouchable and Bakura could not see the way he suffered as he was slowly torn away from me. The first year I was hear I constantly heard about how Yami could not have possibly felt pain. He had no body to feel pain with.

Bakura was wrong. A soul can feel pain just as deeply as any flesh. Perhaps moreso.

After that first year though, things began to change. Perhaps it was because I was the first person who was actually around that long. Ryou hadn't even stayed. I'm not sure if he went to find his father, join the Resistance, or both, but his name is a forbidden topic in Bakura's land.

…I don't know what would happen to him if he came back.

I don't think he will. In Bakura's softer moments, which he has more of now, he'll mention that Ryou and I have the same eyes. No matter how tall I grow or how much I begin to look like Yami, I will always have an innocence in my eyes that he can never accomplish.

Those words are usually accompanied by a hand brushing my cheek. The touch is soft, though his hands are calloused and if the situation was different… I would probably thrive under how soft the hardened thief could be.

Lips brush against my ear. I tilt my head into the gesture, as it expected of me. It's not a tedious gesture- Bakura is much gentler with me now than he used to be. And he never touched me roughly in a sexual manner. So returning his touches wasn't hard, just conscious. It was never like it should be with lovers, who draw closer because they can't help but do so. They want to be closer. I move closer to him because I am expected to and there is no need to disappoint a master who does not abuse you.

"You are never going to leave." Bakura whispered in my ear. It was as much a question as it was a command. He had removed my chain years ago so that only the collar remained. I wore collars for so long that on me they never really seemed possessive.

"Never." I told him, nuzzling his neck as I felt him kissing where my jaw line met my ear. His hands seemed emboldened by this statement, wandering under my clothes before removing them from my body completely.

Bakura has always been very efficient at undressing both of us. Even with me consciously responding to his every move, I'm still not quite certain how he got both of our clothes off and got us to the bed. We weren't even in the bedroom before.

A lubed finger probes my entrance and my squirming is not conscious at all. This part is always strange, feeling cold wet fingers going _into_ my ass. Still, Bakura knows what he's doing and he knows it well. Despite the discomfort, my body still becomes laden with desire. I know what's coming next and physically, I want it.

Bakura plunges in quickly, not giving my body time to tense before he gets all the way in. Once in though… he stops completely, giving me as much time to adjust as I need. I don't take long, bucking my hips to bury him further in.

He listens to my silent demand, pulling out and thrusting back in at a steady pace that we had perfected over a year ago. "Yugi… Yugi…" he repeats in my ear over and over and over again.

It had taken me months to figure out what he wanted me to say. Words during sex were hard for me, so contemplating what I was supposed to say made it even worse. But once I had figured it out the first time, and said it the first time, it became easier. Maybe not the second or third time, but by the hundredth, the words flew out of my mouth as easily as the moans fell from my lips. "I love you, Bakura! I love you…"

He came then, right in me as I said that. It was as if that was all he needed. Bakura's hand reached around, pumping me to completion as well. As I lay there panting, trying to catch my breath, Bakura kissed me. It was as soft and gentle as the hand against my cheek was earlier. It was sweet and caring and everything that a lover's kiss could be.

I smiled back at him in response. Inside though, my blood felt cold. Bakura did not treat me badly. Even when I was Yami's replacement I was not horribly abused or beaten. I was mostly a sounding board to hear his rants and the pains he had gone though and though it was sometimes illustrated physically it was like Bakura had always realized hurting me would to nothing for his revenge.

Suddenly, it didn't feel good anymore. Physical release was not enough. Bakura tried so hard for me and though he never said the words, what he felt was real. Why couldn't I have been a victim of Stockholm syndrome? I felt the tears pricking my eyes and tried to force them back. The lies weren't enough for me anymore but there was no need to let Bakura know.

Bakura could feel my shoulder's trembling though. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice deep and slow, and laiden with genuine concern. It wasn't obvious but it was there if one knew what to look for.

I shook my head. Right now it was important that Bakura did not know the truth. More important than it had ever been before. Not for him, but for me. "I-I, I love you…" I choked on the words. Saying them now was harder than it had ever been before, perhaps because I wanted to say it without being prompted. Forcing that lie from my lips was painful though.

It was worth the effort once it was out though. The pain that lie caused was worth the small almost smile on Bakura's face, still much more of a smirk than a smile, and the way his eyes softened. There was another kiss, chaste against my lips. It was both a response and an apology for not being able to _say_ that response.

I lied again, saying those words again and again. Hoping that if I said them enough, I would be able to believe them and that finally, one day, perhaps it could be true.


	2. Dark of Night 1

**Title**: Bittersweet Nights  
><strong>Author:<strong>Kuroikitsu

**Verse**: In the Dark of the Night  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Bakura, Ryou, Yugi, Marik  
><strong>Challenge:<strong> shortfic_500

**Prompt**: 37. Vampire  
><strong>WordCount<strong>:  
><strong>Rating<strong>:  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers**: yaoi, blood, language, random death

**Author's Note: **This verse doesn't follow the YGO plot at all. The card game virtually doesn't exist. Oh, and people have issues. I like the fact that all the ygo cast has their own issues and I like to explore those a lot. Please ignore the language thing. I couldn't get the phonetic translation so i had to listen to google translate and try to stumbling figure it out. Please no one take offense and feel free to correct me. Not my best work, its disjointed and choppy but I'm pretty sure there'll be more to come and that I hope you like this anyway.

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><p>Bakura hated a lot of things. He hated high school, though his brother forced him to go. He hated the idiots who thought that they could bully Ryou just because he was physically weak- his brother hated it when Bakura came home bloody or bruised from a fight. He hated his parttime job; it kept him being with Ryou when he need him. He hated that bastard Yami for hitting on Ryou and he hated Joey for trying to be his friend all the damned time. He hated sunlight; his light skin burned rather easily. Despite his hatred of nearly everything, though, there was something he liked- loved even.<p>

Bakura loved the night. He loved the darkness, the atmosphere. It could be as foreboding as it was calm and peaceful. He loved it when the moon was full and bright. The moon lite the night as brightly as the sun, only without burning him. The stars twinkled mischeviously adding either romance or cunning in the air. He loved the cooler temeratures at night. The cool breezes helped clear his head. Night, purely and simply, calmed Bakura.

That was why Bakura would take walks at night. He always waited untl late at night, when Ryou was asleep. Ryou couldn't stand being alone. Bakura had to sneak through his bedroom window. The last time he had attempted to walk out the front door, Ryou had woken up. Ryou ran out the house in nothing but his thin bedclothes, chasing after Bakura, begging him not to leave. The time before that, Bakura found Ryou on his bed, crying. It took him an hour to convince Ryou that he wasn't going to abandon him. That he wasn't like everyone else.

The first couple of days after that, he stayed inside. But it was driving him crazy. His temper shortened even more. He was irritated and stressed out. Everywhere he went was too hot and closed in. He felt… claustrophobic. He couldn't take it. He snuck out the window. Ryou didn't wake up. Since then, Bakura had made sure his window stayed open, a constant escape route from the stuffy dry house.

He walked. Bakura always walked aimlessly around the city at night. All he wanted was to get as far away from the house as possible. He needed this time to himself. He loved his brother, but Ryou always needed him. Even when he was asleep, he constantly called to Bakura, begging to be held and loved. Begging for promises to not be like everyone else. Yes, Ryou needed him, but Ryou drove him as crazy as everything else in this city. Loud and needy and Bakura loved his brother but there was so much he could stand.

He stuck to the back roads and alleyways. Any place dark and away from people. Bakura loved night because there were less people and he could have the peace, quiet, and _space_ he desired. There was no way in hell he was going near people in his off time. Most of the time, he stuck to the richer districts. It was harder to find his dark alleys, but when he did they were more deserted. There was always someone, dealer, gangster, addict, out at night on the south side. Today he didn't.

There wasn't any specific logic behind his reasoning. Bakura didn't logic his actions out a lot, just did what he felt and today he felt like being on the southside. Perhaps it was because he hadn't had a fight in a while. Bakura didn't know why, but a hell of a lot less people were going after Ryou now. It's as if Bakura had finally done something he had been trying to do for years- give Ryou a giant, 'back the fuck off' sign. Maybe it was because he wanted to be with people who atleast had similar attitudes. Bakura would never pretend to be one of them, but everyone out on the street this late had a sort of 'I'm too bad to be fucked with' vibe. After being surrounded by Ryou's 'comfort me' aura all the time, the change would do him some good. If he would have known what was going to happen, perhaps he would have stayed at home and suffered the slow insanity at home.

But there was no warning. Bakura had merely turned the corner, heading as far away from down town (the only part of the city still lively) as possible when he was splattered with blood. Bakura wiped the splatters off his face, still warm and red, and leaving a thick metallic scent in the air. It took a moment for his brain to fully process what he was seeing. It was a person, probably a business man trying to find a quick short cut, if the bloody suit was anything to go by. His chest had been slashed open, as if by claws scratching for purchase on his skin. His neck was ripped open, almost completely severing his head from the rest of him. The nearly dismemebered head was stuck in one last pose of agony, eyes bulging out and jaw hanging open.

That wasn't the most disturbing part. Nore was the mouth attached to that open neck, loudly slurping down all the fluids it could. It wasn't even the fact that the attacker was small and lithe, and no bigger than some 12 year old seventh grader. The most disturbing part was those eyes. Those vibrant red eyes that were hazed over in bloodlust but still managed to have an almost childlike innocence. Those eyes were impossibly wide and round to be narrowed, but it was obvious by the furrowing of his brow that they were. It was ….alarming that such creulty could come from someone that looked so innocent. Even then, Bakura could faintly see the light blue of a school uniform underneath all the blood.

And then those red eyes, not dark like blood but light and nearly glowing, focused on _him_. Bakura couldn't help the chill that rolled down his spine. Those red eyes were looking directly through him, burning into his core. Some illogical part of Bakura wanted to know what those eyes saw.

The person, kid, whatever, dropped the corpse and licked its lips. For the first time, Bakura could see two pinprick fangs showing slightly over it's bottom lip. If his mind had been working, Bakura would have realized that he was seeing his first vampire- a rare opportunity. As it was, his mind was frozen, entranced by those hungry, glowing red eyes. He moved faster than Bakura's eyes could track. One moment, he was staring an unresisting Bakura down, the next, Bakura could feel that slight body against his back. He hadn't had time to blink even if he had wanted to. Arms wrapped around him from behind, claws digging into his flesh. It would probably leave scars if he got out of this alive but those claws hadn't moved so he wasn't going to be ripped apart yet. It was the strange little details that Bakura's mind focused on, like how besides the initial pain, the puncture wounds didn't hurt as much as they should, or how much strength was in the wiry arms holding him.

_Bow your head_. It was an subconcious thought that wavered through his mind. The thought was fully his despite the fact that Bakura had no clue how his subconcious would even dream of it. It was almost like an instinctive reaction that even his deepest conciousness didn't know that it knew. Bakura followed it, only because he fully recognized the thought to be his. Even at risk of death, he would let no one control him. He tilted his head, exposing his neck. It was just enough for the gesture to be noticed, and no farther. It was a strange way to bow, not actively putting yourself lower than another person. Another one of those instinctive things Bakura didn't know he knew.

Instantly, Bakura felt fangs ripping holes in his neck. It wasn't the way the dead body, not fifteen feet away had had is throat completely torn out, but those fangs had gone in deep. And the boy feeding off him wasn't as tall as Bakura. When he no longer stood on his toes, his fangs and ripped down Bakura's throat, making him bleed all the more. Immediately, the fangs were pulled out and the slurping began. The boy drank down Bakura's blood as if he were dying of thirst. His tongue lapped at the cuts, the light pressure coaxing even more blood out.

Bakura let out a small moan. He was getting lightheaded, dizzy. It wasn't the bad sort of light headed. It was the kind that daydreamers got right as they fell into a new fantasy and couldn't find the will to try to get out. Suddenly, the licks stopped. Lips that he hadn't noticed pulled away and a soft voice whispered "Dear Lord…" The claws slowly pulled out of Bakura's skin, and Bakura let out a hiss of pain as all the hurt came back. "I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?"

Bakura sagged against his shorter support, the blood loss hitting him hard and suddenly. The boy behind him helped him sit down as he continued to mutter nonsense. Bakura was bleeding, of course he was hurt, and in pain, and unless the boy could put his blood back into his body there really wasn't much the boy could do for him besides shut up and not give Bakura a headache. "Shut up." Bakura managed to croak out. His throat was dry and scratchy and his voice was not nearly as loud or clear as it should be but it got Bakura's point across.

"I'm sorry." The voice was soft, airy light, and gentle, and Bakura could hear the apologetic smile in the words, despite not looking at the boy at all. Bakura sighed. Something in him couldn't help but respond to those desolate words.

"Kid, I'm fine." Bakura told him, hiding a winch when all the talked burned his already dry throat. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see the kid he had let nearly kill him earlier. The first thing he noticed was the hair. It was big, oddly colored, and stook straight up. Hard not to notice. It also looked almost exactly like Yami's. Actually the kid looked a lot like Yami, except shorter, and paler. His skin was almost as pale as Bakura's. And Bakura had just lost a fair amount of blood so he looked even paler than he normally did. The boy was probably normally even paler than Bakura, a hard thing to do considering Bakura's albino heritage. The thing that struck Bakura the most though, even beyond the hair, lithe body, and heart shapped face, was the eyes. Those large round amethyst eyes were so open, so innocent. They almost made the glowing red from earlier seem almost demonic. The purity that seem to echo from the boy's eyes was fascinating. Bakura had been told that his eyes, a dark almost vicious garnet, were intriguing. He bet that person had never seen this boy's eyes.

"I'm glad!" The boy replied. "I would have hated to have broken or killed you. Oh, I nearly forgot! Bakura, my name is Yugi."

Bakura's first thought wasn't how did that kid- Yugi, know his name. It wasn't regret at being out this late, bleeding in the middle of the street, nor was it the thought that he might die. (Strangely, he was sure at this point that he wouldn't.) His first thought was why was someone as sweet and innocent as Yugi cursed to live this way. The kid seemed like one of those shy naïve types that thought the world was full of nothing but sunshine. Forcing him to a life of bloodshed seemed cruel of the universe. Then again, if Ryou was any example, the Gods thrived on being cruel.

It was only after Bakura's brain had processed that, had had a moment of sympathy for this stranger's plight, that he realized this short kid was _entirely_ too familiar with him. "How the hell do you know my name?" He voiced the thought aloud rather than trying to figure it out for himself. Why bother, when he could just force this Yugi to tell him?

Yugi tilted his head, the gesture matching the innocence in his eyes but not the blood splattered all over him. Bakura snorted. Yugi was honestly confused by his confusion. It was as if Yugi thought that Bakura should have known that Yugi would know his name. "But you're my _dulma-al-morti_." Yugi told him, voice soft and sincere.

"Your what?" Bakura muttered, but it went ignored.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Yugi looked at the ground, utterly embarrassed. "I'm never so… vicious when feeding. It's just… I knew you were close, I could smell your scent everywhere and I wanted to hold off until we could meet but I got so hungry. The bloodlust took over. I… I killed someone." Bakura watched as Yugi's shoulders tightened and he seemed to withdraw into himself. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Again. I did it again!" The tears escaped his eyelashes, rolling down his face.

Bakura sighed. "Come here." He demanded, pulling the kid closer. Maybe it was because he had been with Ryou for so long, but he couldn't stand seeing innocents cry. "Guy's a bastard, deserved to die." Bakura told him, rubbing his hand soothingly over Yugi's back. It didn't matter that Bakura had never seen the man before in his life. Most people were bastards that deserved to die. Bakura knew he did. It was rare that you got people like Ryou and Yugi who didn't.

The words, though abrasive, actually seemed to calm the kid. Bakura was glad- he hated tears. When Yugi calmed, he begin to speak again. Bakura was beginning to sense a pattern. "I'm sorry for crying." Yugi apologized. "We should get you home." He offered, lifting Bakura to his feet with an ease that defied both his height and his skinny started walking and Bakura had two choices, pick up his feet- or be dragged. After the insanity of tonight, Bakura really did not feel like being dragged. He picked up his feet.

"How the hell do you know where my house is?" Bakura demanded roughly.

This time, Yugi heard him. "You're my _dulma-al-morti_. I know everything about you." Yugi told him with such conviction, such heartfelt joy, Bakura was immediately suspicious.

"_Dulma-al-morti_, " The albino questioned. "What _is_ that?" The second the words left his lips, Bakura was fairly certain he wouldn't like the answer he was about to receive.

Yugi's cheeks pinkened. It wasn't much, just a few shades darker than they already were, but Bakura's sharp eyes caught it. He was even more certain that he wouldn't like the answer. "Ah… it means 'giver of blood'. Um…" here he paused, nearly stuttering. "Onece one of my kind has found their _dulma-al-morti_, they will never drink another's blood. A vampire's fated is supposed to have the best blood in the universe. Some vampires even get ill attempting to drink another human's blood after that! In return, the giver recieves part of the vampire's life and will not die as long as their vampire lives. That and the vampire will protect the giver and their young for the rest of eternity. The two of them will never have another for as long as they live." Yugi told him, his voice getting steadier the longer he talked.

Bakura didn't like the way that was starting to sound. It was almost as if there was something that he was missing, some important clue he had somehow managed to skip over. "What, exactly, does that mean?" His voice was lower, darker than he meant. He didn't take the question back though. He couldn't find it in himself to do that. He wanted to know and he was too tired and irritated to be nice about it.

"Um… in normal terms, it means that we're engaged!" Yugi told him, smiling brightly. If Bakura hadn't been so tired from bloodloss, so shocked from the words, and so generally irritated with the world around him, he would have felt his heart moved by the expression.

As it was, he _was_ tried, shocked, and irritated. In fact, he was too tired to even truly be angry that he was supposedly engaged to some kid he'd met less than fifteen minutes ago whom he saw murder someone and nearly killed him as well. Bakura could be angry later. He could kick the kid out later. Tell Yugi that he was delusional and there was no way in hell that he was gonna marry some brat he didn't even know.

Right now, all he wanted to do was get home, check up on Ryou and pass out. Probably on Ryou's bed. Knowing him, Ryou would wake the second he heard the front door open but he'd lay there, pretending to be sleep. Because _Bakura had come back_ and at the time it would be more important than him leaving in the first place. And Bakura could pass out and Ryou would sleep peacefully knowing he wouldn't wake alone in the morning. And Bakura could ignore that all this was happening and deal with it tomorrow. "Yugi, just get me home."

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><p>By the way, I didn't say it last time, But people who review are the awesomesause that fuels my soul. I do still love alerts and faves but reviews are always gonna be #1!<p> 


	3. Stolen Hearts 2

**Title**: Regretful Lies  
><strong>Author: <strong>Kuroikitsu

**Verse**: Stolen Hearts  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Yugi, Bakura, Joey

**Word Count**: 8705  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M  
><strong>WarningsSpoilers**: Non-con*, misery, and unhappiness

**Author's Note: **Yeah so… After writing Truthful lies, this little in the future sequel like thing popped into my head with no warning. It took forever to write and for that I'm sorry. Like, literally I think its been over a year. I'm sorry, If it helps I lost the first half of this when my laptop crashed a few months back. Got a better version of it for all that. It's about has happy as Truthful Lies was, maybe even happier.

*if non-con is a trigger for you, there will be a separator where that part starts and ends. Please feel free to skip it. To me the scene does show some more of the plot development of the oneshot but don't trigger yourself for the sake of reading something. I hope you're still able to read and enjoy without that part.

* * *

><p>I…I don't know how the truth got out. Or rather, I don't know how Bakura managed to wring the words from my lips. Yes, it was all a lie, but I was willing to die before letting the truth free. Not for fear of Bakura's rage, but because I didn't want to cause him any more pain. 5000 years of it is enough for anyone.<p>

…Although, Bakura's rage is also a terrible thing. I…I admit to being a coward. Bakura has never turned the full fury of his negative emotions on me before and I never wanted him too. While he was frozen in horror at my betrayal, fully absorbing what I had _stolen_ from him (his idealistic partner, the one who loved him despite his roughness, despite what he had done, despite the fact that he did not truly know how to show that he cared…), I ran. I had no delusions of escape. Bakura was still taller than me, faster, stronger, but it was the one time I was more determined than he was. I did not _want_ to face Bakura's wrath, but more importantly I did not want to die. If I was not Bakura's lover, then there was no use for me and the one thing Bakura truly hated (besides what the Pharaohs of Egypt had done to his people) was uselessness. He tended to extinguish the useless rather… thoroughly.

I fled to the one place in the manor that was safe. My room.

It was one of the few things in this place, so far away from my grandfather's shop, that was mine and all the other things that were mine had been stored there. The room itself was almost as big as my grandfather's entire shop had been and Bakura had been decadent in decorating it. The cream colored walls had a delicate golden trim and the lace curtains almost seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.

I used to be locked in this room for days at a time. A reminder that a golden cage- while beautiful, was still a cage. I was allowed out only on certain days. The door, some days, just wasn't locked. Probably to remind me that my entire life was dependent on Bakura's whim. And then, one day, he gave the room to me. He never told me why- Bakura wasn't big on explanation. Then again, he never told me the room was mine. He just gave me a key. A small sliver key. It had taken me three days of trying locks to realize the only one it seemed to fit was the door to that room. Ever since, the room hadn't been locked unless I was the one to do so.

A crash a few rooms away and a small high pitched shriek brought me out of my thoughts. Bakura's shock had not lasted long and now he was furious. Without me there he other servants and slaves took the brunt of his rage. In my rush to get away, I had forgotten others would get hurt. I couldn't let that happen. This was my fault. I just couldn't let anyone get hurt in my place.

I didn't hear anymore screams but the clatter of broken pottery continued. I scrambled to the door, not quite understanding when the knob didn't turn and the latch didn't click. _What was going on?_ I panicked, trying to force the door. I felt confused, panicked, trapped, _caged_.

…Caged. Bakura had locked me in these rooms again. And I had nothing more than his whim to count on to free me.

I was probably going to die here. How ironic. The first place I saw in Bakura's land would be the last. My eyes watered, tears building there without my permission. Absentmindedly, I sat on the bed, waiting for the crashes in the other room to stop and Bakura to come to me.

At some point, I fell asleep. I suppose it was all the waiting, but I opened my eyes some time later to darkness. The sun had long since set and the warmth that it brought was gone. Still, I counted my blessings. There was no Bakura looming over me, no crashes in the other room. There was nothing I could see or hear that was out of place. But I could feel it. The remnants of Bakura's anger left a tense feeling in the air. And the fact that Bakura hadn't punished me yet was far from comforting. It meant that instead of lashing out in the heat of the moment, he was going to plan. His revenge against me would be just as elaborate as his plans against my dark. It was not a happy fate to have.

I heard the sound of footsteps in the hall. They weren't loud but when the only other sound in range was the beating of my own heart, I easily picked them up. I sat up, knowing that whoever it was, was coming for me. The only other thing in this hall was Bakura's room and he never allowed servants in there. He had never allowed anyone in there, except me.

I was surprised to see a familiar face. One I hadn't seen in quite a few months. If this was a fairytale, she'd be something like my handmaiden. It was her job to stay with me, bathe me, feed me, make sure I was prepared for every situation that required my presence, to take care of me. Except this was no fairytale. She was no handmaiden and I was no princess. I was a pet and she was my handler. Same responsibilities, much different power structure. I wasn't the only pet with a handler- in fact it was becoming more and more common. Malik never had one- not consistently. Whether it was because Marik indulged Malik's dislike of them or because Marik wanted to be the only one with power over Malik, I'll never be certain. Either way, Malik is the only pet I've heard of to _not_ have one.

The last time I saw my handler, she had been helping me get ready for the celebration. The anniversary of the day Kul Elna exacted its revenge. For me, the day my precious Yami faded from existence, a time to mourn rather than celebrate. Strangely enough Bakura arranged his celebration on the actual day I last saw Yami instead of the day he placed the curse. I never asked how Bakura knew. I certainly hadn't told him. I hadn't told anyone. Now, I would never get the chance to.

"I'm to have you ready for Master Bakura in the main hall in half an hour. Apparently I need to have you ready to…_entertain_." There was a certain twist to her words; the way she spoke wasn't as straightforward as it should have been. She had always seemed sympathetic to my plight, occasionally comforting me and telling me as much as she was allowed about what was going to happen to me. Still, this time there was something more to her words. As if there was something she wanted to tell me but couldn't and thought that I would be able to infer it from her clues. I couldn't. They were too vague and I didn't understand.

To do her job though, she didn't need me to understand. She simply needed me to sit there and let her work. There was a time when I used to fight her. I didn't want to be washed and dressed by someone else. I was not a child nor a doll and I _hated_ it. Especially the times she had to try to dress me up. It was like something out of a nightmare and I despised the lack of control I had. It's why I was grateful that Bakura only called upon her sparingly once he had begun to trust me.

My handler (I wished I could call her something, _anything_ else but she has never told me her name) was very efficient in her work. In less than five minutes I was dunked into a bath, the water steaming, and I was surrounded by the scent of desert rose. She managed to have me scrubbed clean faster than I had ever managed myself. It had taken months of her washing me every day for me to stop fighting, stop trying to push away from her when she got anywhere close to the more private parts of my body but by now it was instinct to simply… let her. For as much as she sympathized with me, she was not willing to face one of Bakura's punishments because of me. I was washed dried and dressed within fifteen minutes. The next five were used in an attempt to battle my hair into submission. She tried what she could, she always had, but it looked the same as it always did. My hair had never entertained other styles and it apparently would not start now. There was a small scramble as she located and reattached my leash. I admit that I… I struggled and more than a bit. I did not want to _hurt_ her or anything but the leash was something that something left to the past. I hadn't worn it in _years_. There hadn't been a need for it. Everyone knew I was property, I refused to showcase it.

"Lord Bakura has called for you- I do not wish to be late responding to his summons."

"Where are we headed?" I asked. I could not get away, not now that I was leashed. If I ran I would choke myself and if need be she would _carry_ me to Bakura. I would not be able to blame her. Bakura's punishments were long and enduring and he never forgot a grudge. Besides, I did not _want_ anyone else to suffer because of me. All I could do was try to prepare myself.

"The main hall." She told me, pausing in her steps. "Yugi… I do not know what happened but if Master can learn to forgive anyone, it's you. "

I resisted a snort. Not something I had a habit of, but I was going to die, or face a fate possibly worse. Even bringing it upon myself, being cynical was something I had a right to. Besides, Bakura had made an existence out of never forgiving and never forgetting. He would not change that now.

She must have seen the urge on my face because she continued. "Y- you are special to him. I do not believe that he wishes to be angry with you. If you show the proper remorse he will forgive you because he does not _want_ to be angry." She did not give me the chance to respond, instead continuing briskly towards the main hall. I followed, not quite believing what she said but desperately wanting to.

I could hear the commotion from the main hall long before we arrived. It wasn't the happy sort of noise, with music and joyous shouts and excited hearts like it had been during the Celebration. (No one besides Bakura knew why I was the only one to mourn on that day.) No, this time it was the sounds of despair. I could hear the sounds of begging, halted only by sobs. I could hear laughter, sadistically malicious. The begging began to fade but it echoed in my ears.

My handler told the guards of our arrival. In turn they announced it to Bakura and the room at large. Silence settled quickly- merely a reminder of how much control Bakura had over us all. He did not have to tell anyone to quiet and he did not have to wait for results. It was… better that way.

The doors opened, allowing us entrance. It was as if the room was frozen in time. No one but the two of us moved, sometimes it felt like no one else even _breathed_. But they watched. I could feel their eyes burrowing into me and I felt acutely naked. In my state of lethargy I had not noticed what I had been dressed in. Now, I noticed. The shorts were shorter than anything I would have ever worn on my own and the shirt, despite being skintight did not even brush against the edge of the denim. Everything else was… accessories, decoration instead of clothing. Suddenly the words "ready to entertain" echo in my head and I wonder what sort of _entertainment_ Bakura had in mind.

My handler led me over to Bakura's side where I felt the staring increased. I wanted to duck behind Bakura and hide. I wanted to flee to my rooms where I would not have to see or feel those gazes. My handler was dismissed wordlessly and I was told to take my place in the same fashion. Bakura thrived in wordless orders and wordless obedience. The small chair that Bakura gave me, my own seat by his side, had been removed. I was to sit on the floor, like a puppy… or like a pet. Bakura apparently wanted to remind me of my place. A pet's place is at his master's feet.

Bakura had indulged me, treated me as though I was more than part of his property. I had grown cocky, overly sure of Bakura's affection and had lost sight of how this started. A pet was nothing more than a sentient possession. The weight of reality crashed on me at once and I sunk down on my knees. My eyes only met the floor, but for the life of me I could not gather the strength to raise them. There was nothing to look at but reminders of how far I had fallen. I did not need more of those.

Distantly, I heard Bakura call for the proceedings to continue. It wasn't until I heard a woman's voice, furiously accusatory and a man's, vigorously defense that I truly realized what was happening. Bakura was holding trials. It was a time consuming, tedious duty that wore on Bakura's frayed patience. He had little tolerance for those who broke his laws and even less for those who brought false accusations. Trials were never a good sign. Bakura was sadistic in the best of times and he was never in a good mood when he decided to judge trials. It made him bitter and even more cruel than usual. I always supposed that since criminals were the "bad" guys, Bakura felt he could make them suffer as much as he wanted and that they would just deserve it.

I didn't hear what the woman said. I didn't hear the man's defense. It didn't matter if I did or not. I could affect Bakura's decision no more than a wild badger could affect the rain. To pretend otherwise was futile. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bakura raise his hand. The silence was immediate. Bakura had heard enough and to speak another word would be a fate worse than death. "Take him to the Tomb." Bakura did not shout, but he did not have to in the silence of the hall. His voice rang out, heavy and poignant.

Strictly speaking, the Tomb was nothing more than a jail with an ominous name. Realistically, it was a death sentence. There was no end to your imprisonment sentence and there was no escape. You stayed there until your bones rotted into dust. No one truly knows what happens to those in the Tomb. No one is allowed in unless you are prepared to _stay_ there. And unless you were sentenced there, no one wanted to be there. Despite not knowing what happened to those inside, the rest of us knew it wasn't pleasant. As if the thought of being forgotten, your existence all but erased to everyone you knew and loved wasn't enough… sometimes you could hear it. In the dead of night when all was silent, sometimes you could hear the residual wails from the Tomb.

I shuddered, unable to suppress the memory of those ghostly cries heard only in the dark of night. The man's pleading joining the chorus in my ears. He would not last long in the Tombs. Bakura had taught me well when it came to judging strength. This man did not have the will to live. Not anymore. They waited until the man, still begging, had been dragged from the room. The next case, this time two women, stepped up to plead their case.

"Wait."

It had been a verbal command. Coming from Bakura, that was never good. Internally, I cringed, wondering what was on his mind. Wondering what was apparently more important than finishing the trials I glanced up at him. Bakura was… he was looking at _me_.

Bakura leaned over the arm of his chair, bringing his face even closer to mine. I find myself unable to look away. He's grinning broadly, but the expression doesn't reach his eyes. Those garnet eyes burn with a cold fury, and I knew for certain I was on borrowed time. "There is another punishment that has yet to be discussed." His voice was as cold as those eyes and I found myself too afraid to even cringe.

"You've deceived me, pet. Had the courage to lie to my face." I flinched at that, unable to face his expression. It was terrifying, the way he still sat there smirking while malice burned in his gaze. It was as if I had, somewhere, forgotten how frightening he could be. Bakura was determined to remind me. "Will you lie again, little Yugi? Do you deny these charges?"

Shaking my head, I whispered, "no." There was no point in denying it now. Bakura knew the truth and pretending anything else would simply make things worse. Not in terms of punishment- I was sure Bakura had the worst in store for me. I did not want to lie to Bakura more. I wished it wasn't a lie in the first place.

"His punishment?" It was a question Bakura threw to the room at large. It wasn't something he did often, but the result was always the same. Public humiliation, resentment, and the fate of a pariah. And now, he was casting that fate on to me. The room erupted into loud jeers and catcalls- disdain echoing from every voice. I should have been able to ignore it, let it roll off me like water on marble but I couldn't. I had not been victim to such blatant hatred in years. There was the occasional person who silently sneered, mostly because of the way Bakura had treated me, but it was never so _open_. I flinched, feeling the hatred cutting deep wounds but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It was all I could do not to cry.

Bakura let the jeers continue for a long time. And strangely, that hurt to. Just yesterday Bakura would have never had let this happen. I closed my eyes, waiting for it all to end. "Enough." Bakura declared and it was enough to hush the hall. Part of me- the stupid, hopeful, idiot part of me, hoped that this would be it. That after this Bakura would forgive, it would all be over and everything can go back to the way it had been. I knew it was foolish when I thought it, but that didn't make the thought go away.

The quiet was slower to come this time. It was as if everyone knew Bakura would not punish them as harshly this time. I knew, though, that this was only the beginning. My punishment was far from over but I had no idea what he would do now. Bakura held me in suspense for that moment. I'm sure part of him enjoyed my uncertainty. And then, he spoke. "Someone suggested lashes. Sounds like a good idea."

I flinched. Pain was something I bore because I had to but I had never been a fan of it. And this would be that sharp, stinging pain that would take hours to fade, only to flare up every time I moved. And I had no doubt Bakura would begin to work me again- if for no other reason to make those wounds ache. Bakura's hand cupped my chin, forcing me to look up. I complied because there really wasn't a choice. I could only make things easier or harder on myself. He kept tugging and at some point I realized he wanted me to stand.

I stood hastily, not wanting to displease him more. He pulled me down onto his lap and I could feel that he was slowly become erect. It disgusted me honestly, to think that the display of horror here could catch his interest in that manner. And then I noticed. Bakura would not have me whipped while I sat in his _lap_. I looked out onto the floor of the main hall, ignoring the glares I received. The guards dragged in another familiar face. I can't say I knew him personally. Like my handler he was someone Bakura had… introduced to me, though his position in the hierarchy was very different than my handler's.

He couldn't have been more than fifteen now, still short but his limbs gangly in that way teens get before they shoot up to their final height. His brunette hair was messy in the same way Jounouchi's had been and I wished that I hadn't met him under such horrible circumstances. There was no way we would ever be able to become close or that he would ever do more than hate me. My existence had only brought him suffering. Bakura had chosen him, at random, to be my whipping boy. It was a torture for him and a punishment for me- knowing I had caused another pain that could be prevented was worse than anything Bakura could have ever done to me.

The boy, another name I had never gotten the chance to know, was forced to kneel. He was shirtless and I could see the medley of old bruises on him. It added new depths to my horror as I watched them get ready to strike him. "Bakura please!" I begged. I was speaking out of turn and I knew it, but I couldn't just watch this happen. "You told me you let him go. You said you wouldn't let them beat him again! Please…" Tears welled in my eyes and I didn't try to push them back.

"So I lied." Bakura whispered in my ear, his arm tightening around my waist as I tried to squirm away. The floor would be better than this. There were no words for how much I would prefer to be in that boy's place. I did not want anyone to get hurt in my place. A large hand raised and I turned my head, closing my eyes. I could not watch this. I would not watch this. Bakura's other hand grabbed my chin, forcing me to face the violence. But I would not open my eyes. "Watch." Bakura demanded, pulling me more firmly into his lap. My eyes opened, not a conscious thought. I had trained myself into obeying Bakura's every order and now I had to watch.

I cringed when leather met skin the first time. He bore it silently, used to this treatment. By the tenth I was trembling though they got nothing more than a whimper from the boy. By the twenty-fifth, there was blood and screaming and I was begging Bakura to make it all end.

He laughed. This was nothing more than a cruel and gruesome display that most of the room could only cringe at. It was nothing more than undeserved pain for that boy and mental anguish that I could do nothing to stop and all Bakura did was _laugh_. Though the worst part was not Bakura's enjoyment. He, at least, had a personal grief against me and this revenge was the source of that enjoyment. The worst was the people who did not know me, those few in the crowd who were not cringing or stunned in horror, _also_ laughing. It was nothing more than sadism just to be sadistic.

Bakura did not stop the whipping until after I had lost track of the lashes. The guards left and Bakura still would not let me go. I did not know exactly what I intended to do but I wanted to help him, somehow. At the very least, clean his wounds. "Bakura, please! Let me go, Bakura… master."

Bakura's cruel laughter rang in my ears but he did let me go. He let me go as far as the floor but stopped me from going any farther with a quick jerk to my leash. I had forgotten I was wearing the horrible thing. I hated the way it chocked me, imprisoning me even further.

I turned to face Bakura, trying to figure out how I could make him _let me go_. "I did you a favor, little Yugi." Bakura's voice was deep and heavy and I was _terrified_. My mind went blank in that moment and I did not know what Bakura was going to do to me all I knew was that he _would_ do something. "Show me your gratitude."

I didn't know what he meant but I could sense that he wanted something from me. Something I probably did not want to give… After all, this was a punishment it would be nothing as simple as the words "thank you", despite the fact that he did _not_ do me any favors and I knew that he knew it. But here, this place that I had mistakenly begun to think of as home, reality warped to Bakura's will. Therefore he did me a favor merely because he said he had and my thoughts about it did not matter. There was a time when they had but that had passed and that thought hurt as much as everything else today had.

He tugged the leash, leading me down on my knees before him. I went because I would have to- willingly or otherwise. Then Bakura spread his legs, and my line of vision was directly at his erection. Then I understood what he meant bygratitude. This… was something done in private. Bakura had never tried to initiate intimacy in public and it had never before been part of… some sort of deal! Intimacy was not gratitude it was a closeness, a trust, an understanding- something that Bakura was violating now. No I could not be part of this. I might have no longer been a human being, I might have been a pet whose only worth was to sit at my owner's feet but I was no _whore_. And I refused to let Bakura make me one. "No." It was soft, barely a whisper, but more than loud enough for Bakura to hear me. "I'm not a whore."

"But you are, little Yugi." Bakura told me. I was surprised that he didn't immediately lash out at me. I don't know what I expected, but it was not words. I still hadn't fully absorbed that Bakura had far better ways to hurt me than physical punishment. "It's not as if you made love to me. You let me fuck you because you are mine and so I would protect you." Bakura sounded nonchalant.

I was confused. This was part of my punishment. Why was he so calm? Where was his rage? Or was the punishment over and this simply the way he was going to treat me from now on? It frustrated me, the uncertainty. It made me snap out, reacting to what Bakura said rather than accepting what he would do to me. "What on earth were you protecting me from? The only one that ever put me in any danger was _you_."

Bakura laughed in my face. For someone who was upset earlier he took great joy in laughing at me now and I couldn't help the bitter pang I felt. I had not expected _this_ and Bakura was throwing me even more off balance than I had anticipated. "From _me_, Yugi. You pay me to protect you from me. Did you forget who owns you?" the question was honest and blatant- not accusatory in the least.

It was a question that I could not answer. Logically, I had never forgotten that Bakura owned me but I had forgotten what it meant. I had forgotten that ownership was more than just a word and how much my life depended on his whim. I had thought I had adjusted to the fact that my life is no longer mine, but the idea caused me to ache. Instead of answering him, I looked away. The gesture was as loud as if I had screamed.

"Do you still not want to, little Yugi?" His voice was soft, almost kind but still held that rough undertone his voice always had. It was just like the way he _used_ to talk to me and I let myself get caught off guard. It's just… it was like he knew I couldn't handle what he had planned and was giving me a way out. Or apologizing for going this far. I'd never get an I'm sorry in words but this… this was close enough.

I nodded and I felt Bakura's hand in my hair, gently petting and getting tangled in with the hair. It was nice… soothing actually. "Don't worry, I have someone you love enough to fuck." It took me a moment to register his words. When I did, I froze, desperately hoping I had misunderstood. I hadn't.

The guards struggled, bringing in someone else who was putting up as much protest as they could. My heart leapt in throat and nearly gave me a heart attack the second I saw who it was. The years hadn't changed him much, blond hair just longer and shaggier, brown eyes with same fire they always had. He looked thinner than he had the last time I saw him, bruised up, but not on his deathbed yet. I didn't think before I reacted, just moved on instinct, on pure emotion.

I jumped up to my feet and started running, nearly tripping over myself in my rush. "Jou!" He stopped, wide eyed and turned to me. The look of disbelief on his face… It was as if he thought I was dead. I wouldn't have blamed him if he had thought that. Despite hoping for the best I had long since mourned for my friends. As soon as I was close enough I hugged him and he was too stunned to fight the guards. Having accomplished their mission they let him go.

I hugged him and slowly, I felt him hug me back "Ah, Yug, I thought…" He trailed off, his nose buried in my neck, holding me as tightly as I was holding him. I could have stayed there for years. I had missed him more than anyone, maybe even more than my Yami. Out of all my friends, Jou had been the first one. The only one, really, to see me for me, rather than a shorter softer version of Yami. And I loved him for it.

"Go ahead." Bakura's voice ruined the moment making my blood run cold. "Make love to him Yugi. Show me the difference."

I felt Jounouchi try to lift his head, to say something to Bakura. Perhaps, even, to defend me. I didn't let him. I knew whatever he said would make Bakura angrier. I wasn't sure if Bakura would direct that anger at punishing Jou or prolonging mine but either would destroy me. My emotional rope was already frayed, quickly unbraiding itself, and with it my sanity. I'd probably go mad if Bakura did any more to me but I was sure that if I had to watch him hurt Jou, especially when I could have prevented it, I'd kill myself the first chance I got.

Anzu was the only person I had thought of romantically. But I could not deny that I loved Jounouchi. I loved his protective fierceness. I loved his sincerity. I loved his toughness. I loved that he could always find something good, no matter how horrible the situation. I loved his compassion. And thinking of that, part of me wondered why _hadn't_ I loved him romantically? Focusing on that made it easy, almost, to kiss him. His lips were warm and cracked, and not soft at all. Jou's mouth was slack, probably with surprise, but it meant that he did not resist and that Bakura would have no reason to hurt him. Despite that, I still enjoyed it, my tongue pressed lightly against his closed lips, begging him to open up.

He didn't. Instead, he began to pull away. "Yugi…" He stared at me, frowning, his eyes dark and full of something entirely too close to pity. As if he didn't understand who I had become, but it was still sad and tragic anyway. I could see already that his heart ached for me and I didn't want it to. I wanted him to just _let_ me so Bakura wouldn't hurt him.

"Jou, please! I can't let him hurt you." He still looked hesitant and unsure. It was understandable. Jounouchi was a fighter. He was the guy who wouldn't care if he died as long as he defended what he believed in. But I couldn't let him. Watching him martyr himself… he knew what it would do to me. He never did quite say yes but he relaxed a little and it was not a no and that was good enough.

I kissed him again and this time he let me in. It wasn't quite responding, but not ignoring either. His tongue was thick and stiff and almost awkward in his mouth. It was better that way, these not quite gentle reminders that though I did have something almost like his consent, he wasn't willing to do this. I couldn't delude myself again, like I had with Bakura, thinking everything would be alright. Jou might hate me after this- sex with his male friend not worth the cause of our lives. Jou and I may have loved each other, but this was not an act of love. It was one of survival and I could not forget that.

* * *

><p>I unbuttoned the tattered remains of Jounouchi's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. It exposed fresh and old bruises, evidence of his attempts to escape. They looked sore and painful and I kissed gently around their edges, hoping the soft touch would bring some relief. I forced Jou to go through this for me, the least I could do was make it good for him. I touched Jou the way I touched Bakura, hoping that at least some of the same spots were sensitive. Some were, others weren't, but I feared we didn't have the time for me to explore it more.<p>

I took him in my mouth, slowly, coaxing him into full hardness. Jou groaned as my tongue touched heated skin, bucking lightly. My throat was relaxed (Bakura always liked to control the pace even when I was pleasuring him so I was used to it) and he slid down easily. Jou held himself as still as possible, as if afraid the movement would hurt me. I bobbed my head, swallowing and licking as I went. It was odd, controlling the pace myself. At the same time, it was empowering, deciding how much pleasure I would give. I wondered what it would be like, having Bakura under me like this, teasing him slowly watching him anticipate what I would do.

…There was no reason to rush this. I slowed, taking the time to truly explore, learn every vein and patch of sensitive skin. I enjoyed the sounds I pulled out of him and the taste of precum that flowed into my mouth. My hand found his balls and I massaged them, wanting to make this as pleasurable as I could for him. He came almost directly down my throat, the salty taste of his cum hitting the back of my tongue before going down. I pulled away, satisfied that he enjoyed it before I realized. The point of this was for us to have sex and Bakura would not consider anything less than penetration, sex. The rest was simply foreplay. I couldn't let him get soft. I changed tactics, using my mouth on the balls I had massaged and my hands to stroke him back into hardness.

"At least some things don't change. You're such a greedy little whore, Yugi."

Suddenly, pleasuring Jou wasn't so empowering anymore. Closing my eyes did nothing to help the burn in them, nothing to stop the tears from pooling there anyway. Jounouchi tensed, but I placed my hands on his thighs. I could handle this- I could. He wanted to upset me; I needed to not let it work. He could taunt me all he wanted, as long as he didn't hurt Jou.

"Yugi…" Jou's voice caught my attention. It was soft and concerned and his face looked so worried. Just the way he used to look at me whenever I headed into a dangerous duel or did something that might make me end up dead. I shouldn't have, but I had missed the look and it warmed me to see it again. Instead of responding in words, because I didn't know what I could say, I smiled at him, blinking away the tears.

He was sensitive from having just came and he got hard quickly in my hands. It was time. I didn't have any lubricant, so I made due- taking him in my mouth again trying to leave as much saliva as I could. I knew it wouldn't help much, but it would be better than nothing. I straddled him, positioning myself before I lost my nerve. I had never done this without lube, but I knew enough to know it would hurt- especially without preparation.

"You don't have to do this…" Joey tells me, trying to comfort me, to give me a way out. It was a lie and I think he knew it as well as I did. Bakura always got what he wanted in the end, no matter how much we tried to delay it- in the end Bakura would win. Even if he had to break us to do so.

Instead, I pushed down, letting him enter me. It hurt more than I had imagined- I had to be bleeding with how wide I was stretched. I wanted to scream, to get him out of me, to flail pointlessly, just to show how much it _hurt_. Never again would I do this without lubricant. I had a new appreciation for the time Bakura had spent preparing me and lubing us both up thoroughly.

At some point the raw, burning pain in my ass calmed to a thudding ache and I noticed a metallic taste in my mouth. Blood. It was then that I realized that in order _not_ to scream I had instinctively leaned over and bit Jounouchi's shoulder. Removing my mouth from the wound I spat out blood and it made me feel… dirty. I was unable to look away from the injury _I _had created, blood still pooling from it. It looked as bad as a rabid dog bite and it made me feel… unhuman. He wasn't even all the way in and I had done _that_ to him. After I had forced all this on him in the first place. I couldn't do this. I couldn't take this any further; I would just have to convince Bakura to punish me and to leave Jounouchi out of it. I couldn't-

"Yug." Jou's voice interrupted my thoughts and my rising panic. "I'm alright." He smiled at me and it was soft and reassuring and confident all at the same time. It was the same he used to keep people from worrying about him. It was a lie he desperately wanted me to believe.

…So I believed him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" My voice trailed off, not wanting to give words to the brutality I had committed against him. He shook the apology off, placing his arms around me in a warm embrace that I sank into. The relaxation was a double edged sword- the comfort was amazing, and it did help me feel better about the situation as a while, it also pushed Jou deeper inside me sending the sharp pain back up my spine.

I tensed and I couldn't help it. It hurt more than _dying_ and all I wanted was for it to stop. Jou let me, a silent, steady wall of support, as I panted and tried to control myself again.

"I'm getting bored." Bakura's announcement was met with loud agreements with the audience that I had forgotten we had. It made me tense up, increasing the pain even more in fresh sharp waves. Tears poured down my face and I was no longer able to hold them back. The pain lessened some and Jounouchi softened, unable to maintain his full erection while I was in pain.

Bakura stood and I could tell that he did not have the same problem. He was hard as ever, perhaps harder, his sadistic nature not being satisfied like this in quite some time. He came closer and I felt Joey tense, to try to move. Perhaps to try to fight him. Jou was always an aggressive defender. I stopped him. I don't know how; most likely he let me. He had always been a lot stronger than me. I noticed out the corner of my eye the guards come closer. I didn't want them to take him away. At least here, at least I knew he was alive and what was happening to him.

"You look scared, Little Yugi." He said, his hand skimming the back of my neck. I shuddered, unable to deny the fear, and in part the revulsion. I hated the patronizing way he called me "little Yugi", I hated what he had done to Jounouchi and I had no idea what he would do next. In that moment, I hated him as much as I feared him. Slowly, he took the leash off my collar. I felt it come off more than anything. But he didn't touch me further and it confused me. Instead he turned to Jou.

I had forgotten how fast Bakura could be, and by the shock on Jounouchi's face, he had as well. It was merely seconds before Bakura had both of Jou's hands tied together with my leash, the end of which was given to some guard who had seemed to just appear. Between the unexpectedness and having me in his way, Jou didn't even have a chance to fight it. Not truly.

Jou's legs are treated similarly, though he does expect it this time and tries to fight. I don't know if it would be better to help or hinder him, so I sat there on his softening shaft, waiting for what would come. I knew Bakura would win but… Jou has always been a fighter. He never just accepted things. In minutes he was completely tied down and restrained, unable to move.

I looked up to Bakura, wondering why he had restrained Jou that way. He hadn't fought, hadn't tried to stop me, only comforted me- why was Bakura restraining him? Unless it was a preventive measure. Though, what was Bakura going to try to do now?

It didn't take long to figure out. He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me down on Jounouchi. I screamed, unable to help it. Even with Jou not being completely erect it burned. I wasn't given much time to adjust before Bakura lifted me, forcing me to ride Jounouchi. I could feel Jou get harder against his will, the sensation of being ridden overriding how much he didn't want to be in this situation. I could feel him tense beneath my thighs as he tried to move, trying to get up so he wouldn't have to do this. But he was held down too tightly and Bakura had had me under his control for far too long.

I rode him. It hurt too much for me to scream, I could only silently pray for death. The only lubrication was the blood I was sure the rough treatment had drawn and I felt as though I was being ripped in half, intense pain spiking through my lower half. I don't know how I continued to move; perhaps Bakura was doing more than just guiding me. Jou, however, became fully erect again, causing the pain to increase. It wasn't his fault; I was tense and couldn't relax, but at least it felt good for him.

It was an eternity before he came and I remembered how my voice worked enough to use it. The semen _stung_ where it hit tears and though I thought I wouldn't be able to notice considering the pain I was in, I did. Getting off Jounouchi was a slow, stumbling process, despite the fact that he was getting soft. When he was no longer in me, I collapsed on top of him, not having the ability to do more. Faintly, I could hear Jounouchi saying something to me, but I can't quite make it out.

* * *

><p>Eventually the guards let go of Jounouchi's bonds and his arms embrace me. It spoke of the warmth and comfort that always emanated from him. This is my fault and yet Jou was trying, desperately, to make <em>me<em> feel better. I should have been the one comforting him, and yet I couldn't help accepting it; I needed it desperately. I buried my face in his neck and let him hold me. It wasn't until I saw the wetness on his collarbone that I realized I was crying.

I was dragged off Jou and set down next to Bakura. I fell against his leg, looking just like the pathetic pet that I am. Bakura, who had at some point sat back down in his throne, glanced down at me, though I could not bear to look back up at him. His hand reached down and petted my hair. This time though, I knew better than to be comforted by the gesture. It was touch to prove ownership- no more, no less.

And then Bakura spoke again. "Get him out of my sight. Throw him in the tomb or kill him. Just make him struggle first."

"No! You can't, Bakura, you promised!" It wasn't in words but it was the reason I had gone with this in the first place. If I cooperated, Bakura was supposed to leave Jounouchi out of this. It was my punishment and he wasn't supposed to get hurt any further! If I had had the strength I would have stood. As it was all I could do was clutch Bakura's leg, begging him not to let this happen, as Joeys struggled against the five guards. Bakura… merely pet my hair as if I were a housecat.

It was worse than being ignored. It was _dehumanizing_. It wasn't that Bakura wasn't listening to me; he heard me, listened and judged my words as worth less than the effort it took to hear them. I pulled away, not about to let him torture me by killing both the people who held my heart and patronize me while doing it.

Bakura let me, taking great care to show that he _let_ me. I was not denying him the ability to patronize me; he was indulging my desire that he not do so. It was worse than if he had just continued to treat me like I wasn't human. At least then I could continue to struggle against him. Right now, my frustration was nothing more than pathetic pettiness.

I watched, futilely as Jou was dragged away. He was gone again and this time there was no hope of seeing him again. I could feel Bakura smirking as he watched. I could feel his eyes slowly boring into me as he waited to see my reaction. Would I cry? Scream? Try to pretend it never happened? I didn't know. I don't think I could really react. Bakura had put me through everything I could handle. "Pet, do you love me now?" Bakura asked, sounding genuinely curious.

It was the last thing I thought he would say. It was so unexpected; I couldn't help but react, the words slipping from my mouth before I had the chance to think about it. "Of course not! Who could ever love you when you do things like _this_? This is why Ryou left you in the first place." I had crossed a line, mentioning Ryou, and I knew it. I flinched, waiting for Bakura's reaction. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes wide in shock. And then, he laughed. It was a deep full bellied laugh, but it still sounded dark and ominous. It was more terrifying than his anger because he had no reason to be laughing.

"So you have decided to stop lying, little Yugi." Bakura said, mirth still in his voice. And then he picked me up, placing me in his lap. It was almost… affectionate. "Honesty suits you better."

"I hate you." I told him. I couldn't help it, after everything that had happened; I had no other way to describe the ache in my chest, the hollowness he had caused.

"I know." Bakura responded, petting my hair almost fondly. It felt good and comforting even though it shouldn't. Even though his touch should have sent revulsion down my spine. "I know." Bakura's voice was soft, almost gentle and I couldn't block it out. It was the same tone he used before, back when he wanted to say he loved me and couldn't.

He still did. He could torture me, let someone me (or rather force me) to have sex with someone else, and yet in his voice I could hear that he still loved me. As much as someone like him could love. I didn't understand. How could anyone do this to someone they cared for? How could they actively try to destroy them, break their heart to pieces, rip apart their soul, and still think that they love anyone?

It was wrong. It was disgusting and vile and a complete betrayal of what love meant. _Betrayal_. The word lingered in my thoughts, haunting me, forcing me to reflect on it. And then I realized. Bakura had done all this because I lied to him. I had _betrayed_ him, broken vows I hadn't known I took when I told him he had my love. This was all because I had hurt him. Because he wanted me to feel what he felt.

My anger drained like the pus from an infected wound, slowly but inevitably. He had taken away the two most precious people to me. And yet with mere words, Yami's family had taken away everything he cared for, and I had taken away the only person he thought could care for him.

I had underestimated him again. I had underestimated the depth of his emotions and his attachment to me. I had underestimated the warmth he had shown me. I couldn't hate him. He wasn't moral or honest, but he loved me so deeply that I couldn't hate him.

And yet, I had told him I did. I had said it, repeated it, and they were words I could not take back. When all Bakura wanted was someone who loved him despite of him, I could not give him that. Now, he merely wanted honest, and I could not give it to him. I fear Bakura's next demand. Not the punishment, he only gives what he receives, but the demand itself. He may want me to truly hate him. I don't think I can do that.


End file.
